


breathe in

by cherubi



Series: Broken Film Reels [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 03:40:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16210655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherubi/pseuds/cherubi
Summary: "Go back to sleep, MacCready.""Nick don't-""Tomorrow, we can talk tomorrow."





	breathe in

**Author's Note:**

> Counterpart to Breathe Out. Both can be read stand-alone though.

Ashes from his half-smoked cigarette danced through the moonlight in easy swirls, following the light breeze in it's stead. Valentine didn't, couldn't, breathe, but the thought was what mattered; his actions calmed his ever present worry for the moment. A few feet away under a torn blue tarp was the cause of his worry. 

MacCready looked... Not happy, really, but not as tortured. More relaxed, if nothing else. He worried a lot too. About his son, about where his next meal might come from, about surviving the next raider attack. 

About Valentine himself.

None of it was rational or expected but through their travels with Cirrus they'd grown nearly inseparably close. It was gradual, and they never really talked about it. With time, small touches became longer, more rooted in seeking true comfort rather than a superficial pat on the back. It got to the point that most nights found the mercenary curled up in Valentine's bed at the office, at around midnight or so he'd put down whatever case he was working to join him under the sheets to be his personal space heater. MacCready joked about never needing to use a heavy blanket again (but Valentine kept one anyway because he was prone to shivering on winter nights.) 

They weren't together, though. They weren't. Couldn't be. It wasn't right for Valentine to expect somebody as wonderfully perfect as MacCready to be able to love a personality copied onto a memory chip that happened to be jammed inside a body made from nuts and bolts. They simply weren't compatible, least of all physically. The stigma around synths, and the humans who chose to date them, was another matter entirely.

Mattress springs creaked as MacCready shifted upright; his jaw popped audibly as he yawned and ran his fingers through his hair. The moonlight played across his features like ethereal freckles, making the space where Valentine's heart would be clench tight. No matter what he was doing he managed to do it with the type of confidence that could only come naturally. With a stretch of his arms he mumbled in the general direction of the detective.

"Why're you up?"

"I don't sleep." 

"That's not what I mean't."

Valentine motioned with what was left of the butt of his burnt down cigarette in a vague manner. He flicked off ash with a nervous jerk of the wrist.

"Keeping watch."

"You can keep watch from in bed. It's freezing, get your a-, your butt in here, Val." 

Valentine didn't need to breathe, but sometimes it felt like he was short of breath. He didn't know how to bring up his concerns, knowing the merc would end up taking it as him being overprotective instead of genuinely, and justly, looking out for his best interests. For all of MacCready's good qualities, self-preservation wasn't one of them.

"Val? Is something wrong?"

"You should try to sleep more."

"Have you got a screw loose? You're acting funny. Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong, I'm... just thinking, that's all." 

"You've been thinking. About what? There's clearly a problem here, you know I'm going to find out eventually."

"It's not something you need to worry about right now."

"But it is something I need to worry about."

"No, it's... Okay, yes. It is. But not now. Go back to sleep. We can talk about this tomorrow."

"Fine, then you come to bed too."

Valentine shook his head, wondering why of all places he had to be here. This wasn't a conversation he thought he'd ever have to have, not even during those weird couple of months Deacon was deeply interested in him. The faint crawling sensation that'd been building up in his core bubbled over.

"We can't be together, MacCready."

"What."

"We can't. You'll get hurt, either because I can't be what you need or because somebody else finds out and thinks you're disgusting for it. I... I can't let that happen."

"What, so I don't even get a say? I can't decide for myself if I want to take that risk or not? Do I come across as some helpless little kid to you or something?"

"Sometimes, yeah. You're reckless, you don't know when to quit. You've risked your life for things that no right-minded person would. I-"

"Don't you dare martyr yourself, Nick. This is about more than you and your fantasies of saving every lost soul that comes across your path. You never even fu-frickening asked me what I thought about it! If I even wanted to be with you in the first place!"

And there it was, the inevitable realization that he was so wrapped up in his own head he'd forgot that he was basing his worries in mere assumptions. 

Valentine didn't gasp, or choke up, or cry out. But he did take in air, just enough that it could be considered a breath. A breath that he let back out with his words.

"I didn't mean it like th-"

"Go back to sleep, MacCready."

"Nick don't-"

"Tomorrow, we can talk tomorrow."

"Val please let me-"

"I'll come to bed if you stop trying to bring this up."

MacCready gazed into his eyes with an intensity reserved for those truly well and gone, but he didn't say anything. He kept his word, despite wanting to be anywhere but there; he both wanted to wrap himself around the mercenary and wanted to push him far enough away that he'd forget he ever existed. 

Valentine couldn't breathe, but he felt MacCready's breath ghost across his neck, and that was almost enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Valentine/MacCready has been my number one rare-pair until I came across Bencade.
> 
> Here's a link to my [Tumblr](http://cherubi.tumblr.com).


End file.
